Lessons
by the upward glance
Summary: High School AU. Hanataro Yamada is a lonely boy going through the motions until Ichigo barges into his life, in search of a tutor. Will something blossom between them? Life is seldom as simple as it seems. Ichigo x Hanataro.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** It's been a while since I've published anything on here (about...4 years, yikes!), so please forgive me if I'm rusty in the ways of fanfic. This is my first story for the fandom as well, so don't be too rough on me! I love Hanataro and even though this isn't my favorite pairing for Ichigo, I think it's sweet. Anyways, this is more of an introduction–I'll try to flesh the both of them out in further chapters. So, enjoy if you will the first chapter of Lessons!

* * *

Hanataro Yamada endured what he liked to refer to as a "comfortable invisibility." It had been a way of life for as long as he could recall. In his own eyes, the content of his person just didn't add up to much of an impactful existence. He was intelligent, but not remarkably so. His diminutive stature opened him up for hostility; however, his polite, unassuming nature made him an almost unthinkable target. Thus, unworthy of either praise or ridicule, Hanataro slipped into the teenage gray of his school. And that suited him well enough, for a crippling sense of shyness pervaded him. People didn't frighten him–necessarily, though on occasion those possessing considerable size and power did. No more specifically, it was the demand of human interaction which set his heart into pulses alacritous, spread a cold sweat all over his skin. He lacked the fundamental skills to form friendships; and slowly with the dull ache unique of youth, he gave up the expectation of succeeding in that onerous endeavor.

As a child, having no siblings or playmates, he would create imaginary friends with which to carry on the usual developmental rites. They would always be dazzling and charming and clever, and for hours he amused himself in his room with this company. However, very quickly Hanataro learned the futility of this behavior. That no matter what tricks he played with his own mind, he couldn't banish the lonely days which followed him. His kind adoptive mother, Retsu Unohana, observed all this with a mother's hurt. She wished that he could find a dash of bravery in himself to strike out in the world, and not play so close to the vest. His life became something of a routine, merely repeated day by day, lacking joy.

His singular solace he found in science. While generally ignored or forgotten by those around him, Hanataro nonetheless effused an indefatigable benevolence. He dreamed of becoming a nurse, as the rigors of becoming a doctor proved too much of a mental challenge. Holding another's life in his hands so directly... of course so does a nurse, but not to the same extent. The aura of a patient, devoted healer indeed belonged to Hanataro. He excelled in advanced biology and chemistry, even mathematics. His interest and competency were spurred not by a vainglorious scholarship symptomatic of his university obsessed peers, but rather a genuine passion for the subjects at hand and the capacity with which they could further his dream.

Each year of high school passed like the others: lonesome, yet mentally occupied. At times Hanataro felt his isolation more than others. Just because one develops a familiarity with his state does not mean he regards it with any semblance of fondness. He longed to share with another–laughter, secrets, memories, intimacy. He did his best not to dwell on it, though. It was easier after all to balance a chemical equation than to reconcile a heart to reality. This day, too, surely would fade into the foggy stream with all others. He raised himself from the warm duvet of his bed, and went to prepare himself for it nonetheless. As the steaming water poured over his thin, pale form, Hanataro felt a familiar clench in his chest. Most mornings were spent preparing himself for the day to come. He knew his life wasn't awful, that he had a great deal to be thankful for, and that things could be much worse. But he still couldn't help the sensation that something was missing within him. After his shower and breakfast, he took his daily walk to school. Every inhalation of the cooling air set his mind at ease. _It'll be okay... It'll be okay._

Hanataro had failed to account for the effect of outside forces in his quiet world.

* * *

The discordant clang of the school's bell tore through the florescent lit air, rousing the dreary heads of students running on far too little sleep. Outside, autumn wove her wraith arms through his town, bright colors scattered like errant embers in a hearth. Hanataro packed his bag, observing for a moment maple leaves caught in the air. _How free they look... it must be nice that way..._

"Hey, Hanataro!"

A firm but amiable greeting severed the tender tether of his reverie, catching him off guard. Hanataro turned, chemistry book in hand, to encounter an inviting face crowned with orange hair. _Oh no... it's him!_ Ichigo Kurosaki of course was one of, if not the most, popular boys in the school. The star of every team he played on, the guy all the others wanted to be buds with and every girl wanted to be seen with, and perhaps most damningly, the most handsome boy Hanataro ever laid eyes on. _Why... could he possibly want to talk to me? It must be a joke..._

"Y-Yes?" Hanataro cursed himself as he couldn't entirely veil his discomfort.

Ichigo smiled generously, not missing a beat, "Sorry to bother you, but I saw your grade from the last quiz. It's no secret you slaughter everyone else in Chem."

The taller boy chuckled slightly, almost causing Hanataro to blush, "You're too kind..."

"Be that as it may, I was wondering if you could maybe help me out after school? Ya know, as a tutor? If my grade drops any more the coach'll pull me off the team for the rest of the semester."

"Maybe then one of us could get in a few plays..." Renji Abarai added sardonically. Ichigo's heavily tattooed best friend stood beside him with obvious annoyance at having to deal with Hanataro. He was certainly one of those that intimidated the smaller boy. Renjo always donned an unreadable scowl that made one want to apologize without having done a thing.

"Shut up, Renji!" Ichigo playfully smacked his friend in the arm.

"Jus' sayin', might be nice to give the rest of your team a chance."

"Yeah yeah...anyway, it'd only be a coupla days a week. I know you must be busy, and I can't really pay you... but! My sister cooks really well, and you could stay for dinner! So, waddya say, Hanataro?"

There was something about the honesty and slight desperation in Ichigo's voice and his open face which made Hanataro's heart beat faster than it already was. In truth, as Ichigo said, he was very busy. Besides a full course load, Hanataro volunteered at the local hospital. He couldn't find it in himself to refuse.

"Sure, that'd be okay Ichigo."

A visible wave of relief washed over Ichigo's countenance, and he lightly gripped his new instructor's shoulder, "Oh man, thanks so much! Really. Here, can I have your phone?" He must have caught a puzzled look on Hanataro's face as he chuckled in amusement, "So I can give you my number." Once holding the raven haired boy's phone, he continued, "Text me after school and I'll give you my address. It's a short walk from the school, don't worry."

Hanataro took back his device feeling both a twinge of anxiety and excitement, "I'll see you later, then."

"Yep." Ichigo nodded with a smile, collecting his messenger bag. "And thanks again, bye!" The energetic youth hurried off, Renji following close behind–who didn't deem it necessary to say anything at all to Hanataro.

 _Oh god, why did I say yes?_

* * *

The rest of the day passed in an anticipatory blur. The truth was, not only was Hanataro gay–at heart though untested practically–but for years he harbored a crush on Ichigo Kurosaki. He was the boy Hanataro so wished he were: outgoing, confident, fit, popular, carefree. Beyond shallow admiration, there was something else. An intangible quality about Ichigo: a certain sincere of care for those around him. Whether it was Renji, Sado, Orihime, or even Uryu, Ichigo went out of his way to make sure everyone he valued was happy and safe. The aspiring medic wanted to be one lucky enough to receive such attention. It seemed wholly impossible–until now. The sheer fact that Ichigo had sought him out made Hanataro feel more real somehow. It was... nice to be noticed. Before long, Hanataro found himself walking out of school and his fingers moving across the keyboard of his phone.

" _ **Hello Ichigo, it's Hanataro Yamada. Could you send me your address, please?"**_ He saw that Ichigo was typing and didn't have to wait long for a response.

" _ **Haha, so formal! Here, it's _. See you soon :)"**_

Hanataro quickly discovered that the Kurosaki's lived not too far from he himself. Ironic, all things considered. Standing in their doorway, he hesitated ringing the bell. _What if I'm no good at this... I don't want to let him down, then he'll hate me. No. Just ring the bell, Hanataro. Just ring th––_

"Hello there! You must be Ichigo's pal Hanataro!" Before he could complete his thought, the front door burst open to reveal, who could only be, Ichigo's father–a booming figure of unexpected exuberance. "Well don't just stand there! Come on in!"

"Oh, tha–" In one swift movement Hanataro was pulled into the house with the door shut behind him. –nk you, sir."

"Sheesh, no 'sirs', please. Call me Isshin. I'm Ichigo's old man. Nice to meet ya."

"Likewise, si–I mean Isshin."

"Heh, good save. Listen, thanks for helping the kid out. Academics aren't his strong suit. He's no dummy of course! But..."

"It's no problem, really!"

"All the same. Dinner's at seven. Yuzu, his younger sister, is a whiz in the kitchen. Go on up!"

Hanataro removed his shoes once Isshin went into the living room, and proceeded upstairs. He heard some popular music coming from a door slightly ajar, and took it to be his schoolmate's. Actually, Ichigo was in the class ahead. Meaning at the end of next semester, he'd be off to university–and away from Hanataro's sight. A thought he didn't care to dwell on. The boy rapt lightly at the door, "Ichigo?"

With this disturbance, the door opened to reveal Ichigo in bed, legs crossed, donned–instead of his usual uniform–in basketball shorts, an American team jersey, and ankle socks. The ensemble highlighted all the features of his body: toned, powerful arms, long, smooth legs, the tempting scoop of his resolute chest... _Don't_. He was looking over their textbook, tapping his feet to the music. It seemed he hadn't heard, so Hanataro knocked again, trying not to let the sight distract him.

"Shit! Hanataro! Sorry, I didn't see you there." He unplugged his phone from the speaker and moved to his desk with the book, "My dad let you in?"

Hanataro couldn't help a bemused chuckle, "Yes, he's very..."

"Obnoxious? Ha, yeah he's a bit much."

"Oh, I didn't mean...!"

"Don't worry, I know. 'S where I get my pep from I guess. C'mon, sit down." Ichigo pulled another chair from near his closet to the desk.

"Thanks." As Hanataro entered, he took in the dwelling: it was sparse, relatively neat–he only had some clothes strew about on top of hardwood floors, some posters, the essentials, a nice window overlooking the town which at present allowed a glorious stream of late afternoon light through horizontal blinds. Hanataro took his seat beside Ichigo, unable to resist taking in his scent: soothing, musky, masculine. "S-So...what did you want to work on first?"

"Um...everything?" Letting out a nervous and slightly embarrassed laugh, he ruffled his hair.

 _Don't do that..._ Hanataro thought to himself desperately. "Well, maybe let's start where we left off on the last quiz, okay?"

"You're the boss!" Ichigo put his hand on the back of Hanataro's chair and leaned in as they shared the book and the slighter boy found the page.

"All right, Stoichiometry."

* * *

Dinner came faster than either of them expected, having delved into the material handedly. The meal itself proved delicious, and as Hanataro left he promised to return later in the week.

"He seems rather adorable." Isshin ventured once the guest had gone home.

"Dad..."

"Does he know you're doing fine in Chemistry?"

"Don't meddle!"

"Too late, I already had to dumb you down when he got here."

"No one asked you to!"

"Your ruse was so thin..."

"Wait, dumbed me down?! What did you say old man!"

"Nothing~!"

"Goddammit..."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Sorry to keep those of you who followed this story waiting! I've had a lot going on lately. And thank you to those who reviewed! It's always nice to get a few words here and there. I don't really know how long this is going to be, but seeing as how I'm trying to focus on other writing (and use this flexing my muscles) it might only be another few chapters. But anyway, enjoy chapter 2!

* * *

"I have no idea how my fever got that severe. All of that time is sort of an uncomfortable haze. But being in the hospital at that age is frightening. There's all these odd sounds, both human and mechanical, and then the smell and how cold it is... I had this one really sweet nurse though. She would joke with me and tell me how brave I was and that my mother must be very proud. She told me what she was doing, like putting in an IV or drawing blood and not to be scared, that while not pleasant it would help in the long run. I really wish I could remember her name... Anyway, that stuck with me. And ever since, I wanted to sort of... I don't know... be a comfort for people like that. No matter how small the difference it makes. I got really into science-y stuff after that. Since my mother is a doctor herself that was of course no disappointment to her." Hanataro stopped for a second, chuckling softly to himself and remembered the subtly pleased look on Retsu's face when he told her this, and how she encouraged his every interest. "So... yeah. That's kinda why I love biology and chemistry so much. Because these, in a way, boring, cold lines of thought can bring so much warmth to people. It... brings me a sense of peace, too. I hope that answers your question. I kinda rambled on didn't I..." His face flooded with blood and he felt as though he revealed far too much. But at the same time, it was so easy to let his usually guarded words flow in Ichigo's presence.

It took the latter a beat to register that Hanataro had ceased with his story, who hurriedly availed to reassure him. "N-No! I was listening to every word. I really think it's beautiful how dedicated you are to your dream, and why it's so important to you. Really." Ichigo flashed his diminutive tutor an earnest smile. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to hear _everything_."

"I suppose you're right..." _The way he's looking at me... it's almost like... no. Don't be silly. That could never be true._ A hardly discernible wave of melancholy coursed through Hanataro, staining his eyes with a darker tinge. He noticed this change, and tried to recover by changing the topic, "So Ichigo! You're graduating this year. Do you know where you want to go to university, what you want to study?"

The quick glimpse of heart rending sadness wasn't lost on Ichigo, but he thought it best to ignore it for Hanataro's sake. Nonetheless he remember it for the future. After letting go of his worry, Ichigo considered the question, laying back in his bed with arms crossed beneath his head of orange. "Hmm...heh, that's a good question. I don't really know, to be honest. That's a shitty thing to say probably but... I mean, nothing ever really got my fire going. Besides sports, which is really just a way for me to let off steam. I'd never try to make a career out of that."

"Why not?"

Ichigo turned his gaze toward his window, as the sun bled into the sky once more in a passionate blaze of cranberry and peach. He was aware they were wasting time, but seeing as how he was in no real need of educative help–and he was getting Hanataro more out of his shell than ever–he saw no need to stop their pleasant tete-a-tete. "My heart wouldn't be in it. I don't think what a guy choses to do has to be like, what he's best at, or what will change the world, or what will make his parents happy. I just think your heart has to really be in it. That's why I admire you." Another smile that set Hanataro's heart racing. "But as for me..." Ichigo shrugged with utter sangfroid. "Who knows. I'm kinda just taking things as they come. It's never failed me before."

Hanataro looked upon Ichigo will slight amazement. _He's so confident...! I wish I could be more like him..._ "Wow... that's... Well, thank you. I could say the same about you."

"Heh, you'll make my ego rupture!" Ichigo took the compliment both in gesture and in word, then turned curiously to Hanataro. "Could I...ask you something? You don't have to answer at all of course! It might be out of line..."

"What is it Ichigo? Try me."

"You're...adopted right? I-I mean maybe I'm wrong but that's what I heard and–"

"Calm down Ichigo!" Hanataro couldn't help being amused. When Ichigo got caught up in words he was so... _Irresistible... No stop!_ "I am. My adoptive mother, Retsu Unohana, is my mother for all intents and purposes. She adpoted me when I was an infant. I don't really know anything about my biological one though... and that's fine. I mean, a mother is someone who raises you and loves you and tells you stories at night and makes you feel safe. She guides you and protects you and lets you know anything is possible. Retsu did that for me." Hanataro noticed the faintest of tears in Ichigo's eyes and stopped. "I-I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?"

"Huh... oh! No." Ichigo shook his head and took a second to compose himself. "My mother died when I was a kid."

"And I was... I'm so sorry Ichigo, I didn't–"

"Nah, don't worry, Hana. It's fine. You had no way of knowing. Just, the way you were talking about your mom reminded me of mine, s'all."

"I bet yours was amazing, then."

"She was...heh, she was."

A comfortable, amiable silence formed between them. They'd only been spending time together for a week, but Hanataro already felt as though he could see into Ichigo's true self, what he kept locked behind his jovial and reckless personality at school. He was much more self aware and contemplative than the younger boy anticipated. Not that he thought poorly of the senior, but... Perhaps the breezy attitude he wore was to soothe his undecided heart. There was something else that piqued Hanataro's interest. He watched Ichigo in their classes, and he had the impression that there wasn't anything Ichigo didn't understand. Perhaps he needed to focus a bit with certain things, but Ichigo possessed a faculty that let him discern all that fell before him with what seemed like relative ease. This Hanataro wonder why he needed his help in Chemistry. He just couldn't picture his orange haired pupil struggling with something so... plain. Existential matters of paramount concern like one's future, yes. But chemical formulas? Speaking of which... _We haven't done any work!_

"What time is it?! We should get back to the book!"

Ichigo sighed internally, wishing he hadn't noticed they veered so off topic. _We were doing so well... damn._ "O-Oh! Sorry, I totally let us get off track. We still have twenty minutes til dinner. No worries!" With the pretense of casual assurance, Ichigo set a hand on Hanataro's arm, who sat on the edge of his bed. _His skin is so soft... so nice._ Ichigo loathed the subterfuge he needed to engage for these moments. Ichigo wasn't out to the world, with the exception of his best friend Renji–and Grimmjow because Ichigo didn't make completely sure they were alone in the locker room. He also didn't see the purpose in announcing to everyone something so insignificant as sexual preference. But, the school they attended didn't have the most tolerant atmosphere for those who were different. He had an image of stereotypical masculinity and popularity that he, as irrational as it was, didn't want to dismantle. His teammates might not want him to play with them anymore, his teachers might look upon him differently, his friends might find themselves more and more busy. He trusted his family not to desert him, but nonetheless. Life was comfortable this way. In a few months he could strike out on his own and live how he liked. But if he dared to ask Hanataro out in the open, both of them faced the worst. Ichigo watched with a barely stifled grin as the other flustered from the slight contact. _He's so cute... I wish I could kiss him right now. I wonder if it would be his first._

"Y-Yeah...let's get to it."

* * *

On the days their afternoons intertwined, Hanataro found that for the first time in his young life, he didn't look forward to going home. He longed for time to just drift on and on without impediment. His mother was aware of their arrangement, and expected him later than usual. He made his way to her office on the second floor of their home, and slid the door open.

"Hey, I'm home. I'm pretty tired so I think I'll head to bed early."

Retsu Unohana looked up from her computer and her face softened from concentration to affection as she let her eyes fall on her only son. "Ah, you're back even later that you have been. Is Kurosaki improving?"

Hanataro thought it best not to divulge that their tutoring sessions had started to become story sharing session and merely nodded. "He's a hard worker, he's making progress."

"He did well asking for your help. I won't keep you. Sleep well, Hana."

"Thank you, mother. Don't stay up too late."

She chuckled with a mix of tiredness and bemusement at his concern, "Of course not."

As Hanataro did his best to let the threads of the day disperse from his mind and drift to slumber, he kept thinking of Ichigo's lips, how they could contrive shapes so easily that would undo his heart. The tender excitement with which he regarded their meeting once again in school soothed every nerve, and let him rest.

* * *

"I don't wanna pick a fight with ya, you're my bro. But... well I'm sorry Ichigo I just don't get it. I'm fine with ya being gay or whatever... But why do ya havta pretend you're dumb to get with some loser like Yamada?"

"He's not a loser Grimmjow!"

"Oh please, he has no friends, he has no life! Everybody knows it, they're just too nice to say anything on account of how pathetic he is."

"Why are you being such a dick?!"

"Because Renji likes you too much to say this himself! If you get caught it makes the rest of us look bad! God, sometimes you're so fuckin' dense. You're our captain, the best player. Everyone looks up to ya. How would they feel if their hero is some bleeding heart bitch boy loving fag?"

Ichigo was far passed the end of his rope, but managed to restrain himself to pushing Grimmjow against the unruly bastard's car, hard. "First, don't you ever call me that again. Second, don't you ever insult Hanataro. Because you know what? I'm his friend. I never liked you much to begin with so if you want a fight you'll have one. But I know how much you hate to lose, so I wouldn't try it, _kitten_." Invoking the name his feral companion loathed since childhood was a risk, but Ichigo didn't care. He'd have to find a different way to get to school for a while most likely, but it was worth it. As he stormed off to class he found himself surprised at the degree to which he defended Hanataro. He knew he enjoyed spending time with him and even desired him but... This was something else. He had said 'friend' to Grimmjow, though that word seemed insufficient. Initial simple curiosity morphed into concern and affection in a short period of time. Ichigo couldn't show this, however. He felt pretty sure Hanataro played for his team–due to his reactions from close contact–and unless Ichigo imagined it, a tender spark ignited between them.

Grimmjow's words burned in his mind. Hanataro couldn't be further from being a loser, or pathetic. He exuded patience and kindness, thinking of others before himself. His innocence and shyness made him all the more lovely in Ichigo's eyes. In his life, Ichigo grew accustomed to ensuring the protection of others. With Hanataro, though, it went beyond that. He didn't want anyone to harm him, nor anyone to touch him. His pale, smooth skin and gentle nature reminded Ichigo of an unparalleled spring flower, tremulously finding its bloom. Only his own hands would coax Hanataro to his fullest self. Such words and thoughts slowed his steps. If he continued down this path the tenuous friendship that they formed would be in jeopardy. For so long he struggled with his desires and ardor for other boys that it seemed wrong to kill this, too. _I'm falling for him... and he should know._

Before that though, Hanataro would need his protection after all.

* * *

As Hanataro made his way to school, he noticed a speeding sports car come to a sudden halt before him, and an enraged Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez exeunt with a foul exclamation, "Hey Yamada bitch! I have a bone to fucking pick with you!"

Hanataro willed his body to move, and failed in this entirely. Gripped with a noxious mix of fear and confusion, he could only remain still, books in hand. With a furious swipe, Grimmjow knocked the smaller boy's books to the ground with one hand, and with the other decked him in the jaw. The impact shocked his frame, and a blinding flash of white clouded his vision. Then resounding pain racked his nerves. The dark hollowness in his brain unable to form a comparison to any pain he experienced before only sent more and more horror up his shifting spine. Before he could recover, another unforgiving fist catapulted into his stomach, sending loose an almost inhuman grunt from his lips, and his body to the ground.

"Ichigo doesn't need any goddamn help from ya! He's the fucking smartest guy on our team!" Grimmjow kneeled low and whispered with searing hate and breath, "I know what he is, and I know what you are. Stay the fuck away from him. He was better off before you wormed your way into his life. I'm letting ya off easy. Got that?" Hanataro couldn't muster a response fast enough, and earned a kick to the ribs. "I asked you a question! Got that?!"

"Y-Yes!"

"Good. If I see or hear of this tutoring bs going on any further, you'll yearn for the lightness of this pain." And just as quickly as he exploded onto the scene, Grimmjow drove off before anyone authority from school could stop him. Students already began to flock to where Hanataro's crumpled self lay in the grass, some gawking and laughing and trying to piece together what the infamous Grimmjow had shouted at him. A few more empathic ones left to get the nurse. Gazing up at the swirling maples leaves once again, Hanataro wondered if this was the cost of freedom, how it felt. _I'm so sorry Ichigo..._

As he regained consciousness, Hanataro immediately was stunned with a sense of deja vu. The bright florescence of hospital lighting greeted his tightly drawn eyes, along with the scent of antiseptic. Once gaining his bearings, he realized he was in the school's infirmary, stretched out on an examining bed, white curtains around him. Instantly regretting the decision, Hanataro attempted to sit up, but soon surrendered to dizziness and pain. His hiss of discomfort must have alerted the nurse, because one of the curtains slid open with a detached precision.

"So you're back with us, Mr. Yamada. Good. Don't worry, that's a normal reaction to the injuries you received. Here, swallow these." The nurse handed him a small paper cup with some pills and a styrofoam cup of water, and he complied. "Those will ease your pain. Luckily, nothing's broken. Just some bruised rips. You have very healthy bones. I dressed your injuries. Your mother should be coming soon to take you home. She will undoubtedly attended to you better than I could." Her joke didn't illicit much response, so she pressed on. "Of course, you'll want to talk to administration about who did this, so someone–"

"That won't be necessary."

"I'm...sorry?"

"I don't wish to make a complaint."

"But you were attacked! Rather excessively I might add!"

"Will anyone compel me to?"

"Well, no but–"

"Then that's that."

The nurse sighed heavily, shaking her head. "At least talk it over with your mother. Oh, and there's someone who wants to see you, if you feel up to it." She smiled gently and looked to Hanataro expectantly.

"Oh... who?"

"Who do you think, silly?" From behind the nurse appeared Ichigo, his face written with a mix anxiety and good will.

"Ichigo..."

"I'll give you two a minute." The nurse returned to her office, closing the curtain behind her.

"You didn't have to come, you're missing class and all..."

Ichigo's hand suddenly enveloped his own right, with careful force. "Don't be crazy. It's my fault this happened, and I wouldn't let you have to go through this on your own."

"What... do you mean?" Without realizing it, Hanataro sought strength in that warm hand, enclosing his fingers tightly around it, while also puzzled with Ichigo's words.

"I... had a pretty bad argument with Grimmjow this morning. Probably right before this happened. And, well... he took it out on you." A look of abject guilt and regret invaded Ichigo's countenance, and it stirred something in Hanataro.

"But why? I don't understand Ichigo..."

"The argument was about you." Ichigo's expression changed to one of resolve and compassion.

"Me? Oh... then that explains why he didn't want me to see you anymore."

"Not entirely. You see, Hanataro..." Ichigo contemplated lying, running away. Seeing the beautiful, wounded boy before him brought a sobering quiet to his soul. That pretty face marred with a flowering bruise, his shirt removed and his torso bandaged. Not how he pictured this moment at all. But, Hanataro needed his protection. He failed him once, and that would be the only time. Ichigo swore that to himself. "I like you. A lot, actually." Ichigo chuckled and ruffled the back of his hair with his free hand. "And that's why he did this to you. So, it's all on me. And you have every right to be angry, or to resent me. But I thought you should know."

Hanataro was speechless. Never in his most private, obscure fantasy did he imagine Ichigo saying those sweet words to him. "I-Ichigo..."

"And since we're setting the record straight, I have a B plus in chemistry. I asked you to be my tutor because I couldn't ask you out any other way. Pretty awful, I know–"

He couldn't control the laughter that burst forth from him, but did his best to contain it for the sake of preventing that ire it drew from his ribs.

"H-Hanataro... are you okay? What did they give you..."

His amusement subsided, and he finally formed words, "I-It's not that... I'm sorry. I knew something was missing in the equation. I could tell you didn't need any help, I just found no other reason why you'd ask it of me. And I certainly didn't expect that but..." Self-consciousness came upon him at last, coloring his cheeks, a soft pink mixing with navy and yellow. "I'm glad nonetheless because, I..." He didn't know why tears were forming in his eyes, perhaps the trauma, the drugs, the fact the boy of his dreams was no longer a dream but a shining reality.

Tender fingertips scooped away his tears, and supple lips graced his own–before turning into a heavenly smile, "Good."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I am so sorry it took a year (to the day, coincidentally enough) to finish this! I wanted to write more for them but** _ **lots**_ **of life got in the way, and I honestly forgot about this story. It wasn't until I lost my job two months ago and started reading fanfic again (seems to only occur in times of grief, lol) that I remembered! Apologies if it seems rushed and/or epilogue like, but I thought it best to sort of just wrap everything up. Maybe I'll write more for them one day, but for now my energies are focused on my original writing which can be more of a service to me. I'll still try to write some things on here; if for no other reason than in defiance of the quality of fanfic I've encountered on here lately... Anyway! Thank you to all who followed and favorite this story! I hope this is a satisfying conclusion. All the best! :) –Mal**

Despite their appearance, the wounds healed in less time than anticipated, to the relief of all parties involved. Ichigo dropped the charade of his tutoring which appeased Grimmjow and the team, and made it appear as though all had reverted to normal. He did it in the name of Hanataro's well being, unable to see him marred in such a way again, put at risk so needlessly. It shamed him to ignore the the smaller boy in school, but only a few months remained until such pretense would be rendered unnecessary. He could hardly believe he had a boyfriend, especially one so ideal. While Ichigo had long come to terms with his sexuality, he never attempted relationships. He wasn't a virgin by any means; someone in his position had ample opportunity. Yet it had all been so... hollow. Pleasurable, yes, in those all too fleeting moments of orgasmic bliss, but that's all. He was glad for the chance to explore, to improve his confidence at a rather daunting act. Something was still missing–and as he got to know Hanataro better, he realized what that was. It's like attempting a grand jigsaw puzzle, and you're so close to completing the picture: a vision of a sunset or the cosmos or something equally as vast and dazzling. Only you're a couple pieces short of its fulfillment, and thus it isn't as lovely as it could, and should, be. He loved men, he loved having sex with them. But he'd never _loved a man_. And he could see something wonderful for the two of them. Not just a secondary school dalliance, but a is what Ichigo thought. Hanataro, however, began with increasing dread to prepare himself for Ichigo's inevitable departure–from the town, and his life.

He regretted that moment of weakness, admitting under not a small amount of duress his true feelings. In that brief instance of what was quite actually courage of a scale he had never managed, he felt such a lightness, only to be surmounted by the sensation of Ichigo kissing him for the first time. After that passed, though, he was left with reality, the futility of their situation. He did his best to hide it, like always shielding his darker emotions from the few who cared. Their time together was minimal and thus precious, so he wished to spare Ichigo the sufferance of his doubts. These clandestine meetings occurred at the Kurosaki home under the permitting pall night. Hanataro had told his mother that while Ichigo no longer needed his services, they had become friends. This eased Retsu's worry in regard to her son's solitude, and she allowed him to freely spend as much time with him as much as he liked–so long as it didn't interfere with his studies. The Kurosaki family had taken a shining to Hanataro, and welcomed his continued presence.

While his boyfriend's household knew the truth behind their relationship, his mother did not. It wasn't as though he thought Retsu wouldn't accept him, or would treat him any differently. But, there was something about admitting it that made it all the more real, and thus eventually painful. The fewer who knew, the lesser the impact once Ichigo left. Because that was the state of things, wasn't it? He had played out all the scenarios in his mind, or so he thought. While they had discussed his ambivalence to future prospects before, there was no reason Ichigo couldn't win admission into a top tier school and earn considerable scholarships for his athletics. He had great things ahead of him, someone so good hearted and generous and capable and _just stop thinking about it!_ As Hanataro lay in his bed, unable to slumber, he replayed their farewell over and over. He tried to paint Ichigo as cold and cruel as possible, which proved difficult. But if he expected the worst he couldn't be destroyed. If he broke his heart first it couldn't be broken. Or so he thought.

The progress of their relationship physically had been slow, at Hanataro's behest. He was not used to such treatment, such feelings, so alarmingly passionate and doomed. They kissed, at first chaste and furtive. These quickly grew bolder, longer, more insisting. They learned the shaped of each other's mouths, the thickness of their tongues, the pleasing hardness of their teeth–a private language only known to them that they sought to master. Kisses began to trail. With an impressive amount of restraint did Ichigo succeed in attending Hanataro's supple neck without marks of possession. Hands began to trail as well, down the warm slopes of backs, along the quivering seas of thighs, across heaving ribs that were like rows of braille. Hanataro cried innocence, but it was truly fear. He feared craving the other's touch too much, submitting too much of himself to an ownership that would be all too brief. And yet against his better judgement (or so he thought), within Ichigo's eyes and artful caresses he witnessed a terrifying glimpse of the promise of eternity. It was in a moment such as this, as Hanataro sat between Ichigo's legs, his own snaked about that strong body, slowly losing himself in a languidly ardent kiss while Ichigo clutched the small swale of his lower back, that he began to cry. _Oh god, no, why now..._ The older boy felt the tell tale moistness against his cheek, and started.

"Hana...! What's wrong? Was I too forward? I thought we were doing okay..."

"No... it's nothing. I'm sorry."

Ichigo looked into his lover's eyes and recalled the darkness that swept across them during that early moment of their getting to know each other. He let it go then, but he wouldn't now.

"Hey... I'm your boyfriend, ya'kno. I'm not good for much if ya can't talk to me." He smiled earnestly, hoping to diffuse the tension. He could feel Hanataro trembling slightly in his hold. It happened maybe once or twice before, and Ichigo had attributed it to nerves. But now he wondered if something more serious were lurking behind his love's usually so placid eyes.

"I must have just gotten overwhelmed..."

"Please, Hana. I know that look. You're struggling with something. I would never make you tell me but... I'm here. I care. I want to help, if you'll let me."

"That's it, though..."

"What is?"

"N-Never mind, please..." He felt as though he'd cry if he misspoke, if Ichigo proved any more tender and understanding. _He must hate me..._ A perfectly sharp knife twisted in his gut. "I um...I have to go, it's late. I have a test tomorrow. Please, don't worry. I'll see you soon." Hanataro endeavored to sound as resolute and believable as possible, adjusting his clothes and donning his discarded hoodie once again. In breeze of movement, he left the room he had already grown too fond of, wanting an exit before his boyfriend could offer a word.

Ichigo remained sitting on his bed, dumbfounded, before noticing a glint in the corner of his eye. _Hana's keys... he won't be able to get in_. He hurriedly put on some shoes and grabbed a jacket before heading out. Isshin met him at the bottom of the stairs.

"Was that Hanataro? He took off like a bat out of hell!"

"I know... he forgot his keys. I have to catch up with him."

"Somethin' happen Ichi?"

"That's what I wanna know..."

Hanataro was many things, but one of those was definitely not an athlete. While he had managed an impressive pace for a minute or two, he quickly began to tire, due to both his lack of physical mastery, and his emotional state. _Stupid stupid stupid! I couldn't just hold it together! Now everything is ruined... How do I recover from this? I can't just say something got caught in my eye!_ The thought of breaking up with Ichigo was more than he could bear, but it seemed almost like the right thing to do. _He can do so much better... I'm just... what? A dumb boy scared of everything who for some reason thinks he can be a nurse... for what? To help people? You can't even help yourself..._ As he approached his home, rummaged in his pocket, then all of his pockets, only to find he'd left his keys. _Stupid..._

"Thought you might be needing these."

He turned quickly upon hearing that deep, rousing voice of Ichigo's. "O-Oh, right. Sorry I inconvenienced you."

"'s no problem, you know that. I'm... kinda glad actually. Because, well. You didn't really give me a chance to say anything–n don't say sorry!"

"S-...mm, yeah, you're right. I..."

"Look, I'm not like an emotional wizard, and I'm not the best at advice. But you're important to me. And I can't just turn a blind eye to you when you're going through... whatever this is. Grimmjow bothering you again?"

"No! It's not that."

"Cuz you know I'll lay him flat if he has."

"Don't worry, he hasn't." Hanataro was oddly soothed by this declaration of defense, and amused. Ichigo looked so cute riled up. _Stop it!_

"Well... I know it can't be grades or anything since you're like, a boy genius. And your mom is basically a saint. So... that makes me wonder if it ain't me?"

"Ichigo..."

"Have I been moving too fast? I'm really sorry if I have been, it's just, well... You're kinda hard to not ravage."

This caused the dark haired boy to blush, "N-No! You've been perfect."

"Are you... not happy, then?" Ichigo led his Hana to the porch, encouraging him to sit.

"I'm... very happy. Too happy, maybe."

"Ha, no such thing." This earned him a kiss to the cheek from Ichigo. "Then... well, I'm sorry kid but ya gonna have to give me a hint here."

"You'll hate me..."

"Not gonna happen."

"But––"

"There aren't many things I'm certain of, but that's one of them. You can tell me anything, Hana. No judgment."

"Another time, okay?"

"Hanataro..."

"Please?"

Ichigo didn't want to press the issue too far. He knew that for most of his life Hanataro kept everything bottled inside, and that he wouldn't just open up on the spot. Nonetheless, his worries hadn't been assuaged. His protective instincts were telling him at once to continue and to desist. He decided to err on the side of caution. "All right. But we're gonna talk about this. Seeing you cry is the pits."

"Ha, okay. I promise." _Is that a lie?_

"Good night, babe. Sleep well." A quick kiss and Ichigo rose, taking a last look. Hanataro appeared some otherworldly creature like this, caught up in moonlight–his eyes faintly bleary from crying, his skin like eggshells or cream, his hair a dark but nonetheless lovely crown adoring it all. _Fuck, I'm in deep._

"Good night." Hanataro smiled softly, observing the sombre, lingering gaze, then Ichigo's lithe form as it was slowly but surely obscured by the night. Taking note of it, emblazoning it on his memory's shore. _Goodbye._

For it was a lie, after all. They didn't speak of it, Hanataro made sure. He didn't want to saddle Ichigo with that guilt, didn't want to impede him in any manner. They were beautiful words he spoke, yes. But words do not last. You cannot build a house on them. They are grains of sand at the ocean's unrelenting mercy. He had always been alone, and he had gotten by. Letting Ichigo in only proved to dismantle his halcyon, no matter how lonely it was. Now he hurt, now he longed, now he mourned the loss of a dream that could never dawn. He ignored Ichigo's texts, calls, which grew in frequency and alarm. At school Ichigo was bound to his heterosexual stage play, so he was safe there. He could feel the weight of his stare, though. The silent accusation: why? _I don't know!_ Hanataro wanted to scream in reply at Ichigo, at everyone. _Because I'm afraid! Are you happy?_ But no sound came; he kept his eyes low. Then the calls and texts stopped. It was both a relief and a torture. _Of course he gave up, why wouldn't he? I'm no one, after all._ Or so he thought.

Graduation day came, at odious last. Hanataro briefly entertained the notion of attending, if for no other reason than to steal one last look of Ichigo in all his glory. He knew he wouldn't. He knew he'd stay shut in his room and fall to pieces. He slept in, as late as his body would allow, wretched slants of afternoon light from the blinds draping across his unmoving body. When he couldn't maintain the farce of sleep any longer, he rose, showered, attempted to eat, couldn't, and went back to his room. He was grateful his mother kept such a busy schedule, she wouldn't have to witness this. Trying to study proved useless, as did watching his usual shows. He could only lay there, existential dread creeping into every pore. And as the day's death hung in the window, its last shards of life draping across his unmoving body, he was stunned to hear the door bell ring. _Perhaps a package for mother_ , he thought, ambling poorly down the stairs. Once he opened the door, however, his face quickly froze in shock, as did his heart. For there stood Ichigo, still dressed nicely from the ceremony, only missing cap and gown. Not as cold and cruel as he imagined, more hurt. Though the image didn't fail in rending Hanataro's insides. Brows knotted, eyes burning, knuckles white, Ichigo stood imperious.

"You didn't come."

"No..."

"I looked for you, ya'kno. It was dumb, I guess. But I kept gazing out into the crowd hoping to catch sight of you."

"S-"

"Don't say it. Please. Just... tell me why. Not just today, but everything. I figured you couldn't ignore a person at the door, at least if I had the element of surprise."

"Ichigo, I..."

"Can I come in?"

"...y-yeah, of course." Hanataro somehow made his neurons fire, and moved aside allowing Ichigo to enter. He couldn't raise his eyes, however.

"Never been in here before," Ichigo ventured, taking stock of his surroundings. "Nice home."

"Thank you."

Neither knew what to do. A gulf of emotions lay in the room between them, both unsure of their footing as how to meet in the middle.

"Um, we can go to my room, this way..." Hanataro spoke with a near funeral hush, preparing for the worst. He deserved it, certainly. He'd been awful. But he had done the right thing though, hadn't he? Why did the road of mercy seem so much more akin to the Via Dolorosa, then? As they ascended the stairs and made their way to his room, they were enveloped in an oppressive quiet, only the padded sounds of their steps. Once Hanataro closed the door, he found himself rather forcefully pinned against it, the tears in Ichigo's eyes wounding him all the more.

"Fucking why, Hana?! I don't get it! We were... we were so happy! We were just starting, you told me you were happy! Did you lie?!"

"No! I didn't!"

"How can I believe you? You cut me out! Without a word!"

"I know, I–"

"I'm not done. Before you make your defense, listen. God knows you wouldn't before." Ichigo let up on his hold of Hanataro, but kept him in place, as if he feared the slighter one might somehow flee. "I never had a boyfriend before you. Not even close. I really wanted to feel what all my friends were feeling. Love, desire, being close with someone in that special way. But I was gay n that was fucking impossible at school n there wasn't anyone who... Until I saw you. I don't know what it was, but you had this quality about you... You were like a mystery, kinda. One I wanted to solve. You spoke to no one, you moved about like a ghost. You were smarter than almost everyone, but weren't a brag. I'd catch you looking at me n I'd wonder why. You were so goddamn afraid. So I asked you to tutor me even though I didn't need it because I didn't know how else to approach you, how to have us interact in a way that wouldn't scare you off or feed us to the lions. Then I found out you were amazing. Tender, considerate, ambitious but humble, always seeing good in things. Except yourself." Ichigo grew more and more quiet, before sinking down to stare Hanataro eye to eye. "I fell for you. I thought you fell for me too. But then you ran, literally and figuratively. And I fucking wanna know _why_ , Hanataro. You owe me that."

His voice was barely a whisper, "I didn't want you to leave..."

"Huh, I can't–"

"I didn't want you to leave!" Hanataro surprised himself at loudness of his voice, and spoke in a spatter through the tears. "I didn't want you to leave Ichigo! I knew you'd leave here, but I'd have to remain. You'd move on. You'd forget about me. Because that's what always happens... Because you are amazing at everything and can do anything and everyone worships you! Your teammates, the school, your sisters, everyone. Because you are everything I wished I could be but can't! I didn't want to leave you...I didn't, believe me. I was happy. Happier than I have ever been in my life. But I thought... I thought you'd be better off, without me. Because I can only hold you back..."

Ichigo watched as Hanataro tore himself apart, his tears not relenting, and the impulse he immediately felt was to laugh; he did. "Oh my god, Hana. For someone so smart you're such an idiot."

"W-What...?"

"It didn't occur to you that everything I wanted," Ichigo stuck an insisting finger on Hanataro's heart, "was right here, with you?"

Hanataro couldn't find the words. He had thought... he had thought...

"Hana..." Ichigo drew his boyfriend close, sitting on the floor, against the wall. "I'm flattered you think all those things of me. And I guess you're kinda right. I could go off to school, do sports, get some degree, find a job, settle down, the whole nine yards. But that's not what I want. Not at all. And if you had talked to me when I asked you would have known that, silly." He ruffled the boy's raven hair, showing that the anger was over. "If you had talked to me, I would have told you that yes I was applying to college. Here. That I was gonna get a job to save up so we can have a place eventually. That once you graduated you could go to school here too, and intern with my dad. I've never had huge dreams, Hana. I've led a pretty simple life, that's how I like it. I found you. And, being one hundred percent gushy honest, that's all I wanted. My family loves you. I love you. And if you want it too, I think we could have a happy life together. I know we're young, but when I kissed you that first time, I was pretty sure I knew you were the one for me."

He had thought... and he was wrong. Everything he had construed to fail, didn't. Every dark thought, every lost hope, every false assumption, was wrong. Ichigo loved him, wanted to be with him, wanted a life with him. "Ichigo... yes, I want it too. Believe me, I do. I'm so sorry... I love you so much. I know what I did–"

"Shh, Hana. That's all I need to know."

Outside, maple leave stirred in the nightly wind, waltzing beneath a moon full to bursting.

Ichigo and Hanataro were free.


End file.
